


Knots

by OneEyedDestroyer



Series: Beautiful, Languid, and Filthy-Gorgeous [3]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Casual Cozy Moments, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Morning Cuddles, Multi, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-21 00:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14273334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneEyedDestroyer/pseuds/OneEyedDestroyer
Summary: Eliot and Margo wake up to find that their overnight guest is gone. Cuddling, comfort, and snarkiness ensue.Chapter 2: Quentin wakes up between Eliot and Margo.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just some quick fluff for my favorite touch starved assholes. The next chapter will involve Quentin because I’m a sucker for OT3 fluff. 
> 
> Once again huge Thanks™️ to [ **Vivi** ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivi_Marius) Marius for her badass machete skills.

Sunlight pours through the sheer curtains, causing Margo stir to out of her sleep. Eliot’s been half awake for a while, but isn't ready to even consider leaving the safety of Margo’s bed. He reaches across the now empty space between them and grabs her by the arm. Tugging lightly, he drags his fingers along the inside of her elbow. She jerks involuntarily, but otherwise doesn’t budge.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, honey in his voice, continuing his attempts to pull her closer.

Margo groans but finally slides back into Eliot. He sighs at the warmth of her back against his bare chest.

“Much better,” he says, voice still deep and heavy with sleep. He walks his fingers down her arm, interlocking them with hers. Settling in a little bit closer, Margo brings their hands to her chest, wrapping Eliot’s arm around her.

“We should probably check to see if he stole any of our shit,” Margo says, voice gravelly with the dryness of the first words of the morning.

Eliot groans dramatically before speaking. “But you’re so warm.” He entangles their legs, trapping Margo in place—not that she has any intention of going anywhere just yet. “If he took anything it’ll still be gone when we get up.” These are some of his favorite moments, tangled up in knots, getting a good hit of the intimate touch they both crave. They relax for a moment basking in the glorious mess they made of the sheets with the help of their not-quite-overnight guest. They’re motionless for a bit, breathing each other in, heartbeats slowly marking the passage of time.

Margo lets out a content sigh, breaking the near-hypnotic silence. She rolls over so they’re face to face; she can smell sleep and sex on Eliot, and finds it strangely comforting. Eliot brings his arm back around her and rests his hand at the small of her back.

“I love the ones that need me to ‘distract’ them while they ‘get comfortable’ with you touching them,” she says, voice heavy with playful distaste while absent-mindedly stroking Eliot’s chest hair. He groans in agreement before speaking.

“I do love watching the moment they realize they’re having the best sex of their life,” he says, laughing a little while lazily tracing circles on Margo’s hip. “Especially when we’re not even trying.” Eliot lets out a yawn that Margo isn’t entirely convinced is solely for dramatic effect.

“Not gonna lie, I thought he was gonna come in your mouth before I even got my hands on him,” Margo says, yawning.  Despite her annoyance, Margo truly loves watching Eliot give head; it’s at the top of the list of things she could watch for hours.

Eliot rubs his eyes; the spell of last night’s sleep is slowly beginning to break. “We need to stop bringing home guys who can’t keep up,” he says.

“Right! I bring them home to fuck, not choreograph a goddamn floorshow.” Eliot runs his hand along the outside of Margo’s thigh, his rough hands betray his secrets, but she wouldn’t dare point it out. Taking his cue, she re-entangles their legs, ensuring as much contact as possible.

“Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy giving orders, Bambi.” He rests his chin on top of her head.

“What I enjoy more is fuck toys who know what the fuck they’re doing,” she laughs, the vibration against Eliot’s chest causes him to laugh too.

“You know what I enjoy?” his tone misleadingly suggestive.

Margo shifts a little and rests her chin in Eliot’s sternum, making eye contact for the first time this morning. “What, baby?”

“Brunch.” He says before placing a soft kiss on Margo’s forehead.

“Fuck yes.” She says with a moan. “After a night like that, we deserve mimosas.”

“We always deserve mimosas.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin wakes up between Eliot and Margo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submitting this chapter for The Welters Challenge Theme Two: Unity 
> 
> The first chapter isn’t necessary to appreciate this chapter, but I did very much intend them to work together to create An Experience™️. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Have some OT3 fluff on me. 
> 
> This is a wee bit canon divergent, and is set after the smutty followup piece to Sharp Presentation (which I will be posting sometime next month). 
> 
> Special Thanks to [ **Rae** ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/highestkingbambi) for editing while [ **Vivi** ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivi_Marius) is unavailable this week.

Quentin rouses, groggy and a little disoriented. He’s in an unfamiliar bed—trapped in a web of limbs and soft sheets, weaved carefully together around him, holding him captive. He turns his head and accidentally brushes his nose against Eliot’s throat, causing him to stir. The arms wrapped around his torso pull him in closer. Eliot hums in contentment, the soft vibrations soothe Quentin, while the warm safety beckons a small sigh. He feels the soft legs that tangled with his start to tug before Margo slides her torso closer to his, cuddling into his back. He turns to look at her, taking her in for the first time since last night.

 

Being this close to Margo in such an intimate setting is unnerving. Quentin has never really noticed just how small she is; she almost looks fragile like this. He shifts to wrap his arm around her and starts to stroke her hair. She’s so much softer than he imagined. He’s not entirely sure why, but he expected touching her to almost hurt. Maybe it’s her bold confidence; sometimes she seems more like a force of nature than a woman.

 

“How long do you think it will take her to wake up?” Quentin asks, turning back to Eliot. He realizes he’s been stroking Eliot’s chest hair, and quickly stops. He has no idea what the protocol is for this situation. What is he allowed to touch, and how intimately? Nevermind the fact that last night ended with Quentin exploring every inch he could of Eliot and Margo both.

 

“Bambi likes to pretend she’s still asleep and doesn’t want to be cuddled, but it’s her favorite part,” Eliot says, pulling Quentin out of his thoughts. Sensing his apprehension, Eliot guides Quentin’s hand back to the spot they once sat on his chest. He sighs in contentment when Quentin resumes stroking his chest hair.

 

“Fuck you,” Margo croaks, voice still claimed by sleep. She cuddles even closer, pushing Quentin slightly on top of Eliot. Eliot looks at Quentin and rolls his eyes. Quentin suddenly feels the soft strokes of someone's thumb on his hip.

 

“Do—uh—do you guys do this often?” Quentin asks after a period of silence he fears may have been awkward. His bedmates continue to cuddle in sleepy bliss, seemingly unaware of just how fast his mind is racing.

 

“What part, sweetie?” Margo asks, casually twirling a bit of his hair between her fingers before tucking it behind his ear.  “The sex or the cuddling?”

 

“Uh both?”

 

“Margo and I have been known to bring home a . . .” Eliot pauses, “stray boy or two, yes,” Eliot says, careful not to say anything that might cheapen the moment. He wants Q to know he’s special.

 

“But you’re the first to be invited to stay,” Margo finishes for him. Quentin’s relaxes, releasing tension he didn’t realize he was carrying until it melted away. “We usually kick them out once we're done with them”.

 

“If they don’t see themselves out, first” Eliot says. Quentin scrunches his brow and tries to make sense of the moment.

 

“We’re not done with you, Quentin Coldwater,” Eliot says into his ear. For a moment, he wonders if he has given Quentin the wrong idea. They don’t want him under the impression that they are toying with him. There is silence for a moment, Quentin’s face twists a bit as the gears in his head turn. Eliot and Margo have interlocked their fingers, reaching for each other in nervous anticipation. After what feels like a lifetime, Quentin nods resolutely and appears to understand. He slides down to better cuddle between them, and they all exhale deeply, letting the nerves dissolve as they tangle together in soft knots.

 

Margo’s long fingers thread into Quentin’s hair, tracing lazy shapes against his scalp. He mews in contentment and cuddles closer into her. Eliot quickly scoots closer, closing the space he opened up. He runs a hand down Quentin’s arm and interweaves their fingers.

 

Placing her head on Quentin’s shoulder, Margo looks over at Eliot. Eliot meets her eyes and they smile at each other, acknowledging that this poor boy is theirs now. Eliot begins to speak, but he’s quickly cut off by Quentin’s excited utterance.

 

“Not gonna lie, I feel like I’ve been invited into a really fucking cool secret club,” he says with a nervous laugh.

 

“We’re the most exclusive club in New York, Coldwater,” Margo says continuing to stroke his hair as she looks at them both. “Don’t you forget that ”.


End file.
